


this is my night; this is my dream

by blueandbrady



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-05
Updated: 2012-12-05
Packaged: 2017-11-20 10:09:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,654
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/584207
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blueandbrady/pseuds/blueandbrady
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry goes back to Taylor's hotel room with her after the MSG after party.</p>
            </blockquote>





	this is my night; this is my dream

**Author's Note:**

> For the numerous, awesome ladies on my timelines and dashes who have expressed interest. Oh, and me, too. Apparently I'm super okay with this pairing.

Harry trips over his feet trying to coordinate walking into Taylor’s hotel room with her at the same time. She says something about letting go and going in first, but unwrapping his arm from around her waist seems _wrong_ , so he doesn’t listen. 

He might be a little drunk. 

“Madison Square Garden!” he yells for maybe the tenth time since they left the after party. 

“I know, right?” Taylor laughs, kicking the door shut and then almost falling over trying to take her flats off. She snorts at herself and shoves Harry away so she has more balance. “It never gets any less cooler. Cool.” 

She might be a little drunk, also. 

“Tonight has been a good night,” Harry says, venturing down the hall of her suite until he finds the bedroom. He just played Madison Square fucking Garden with his band, his _best friends_ , and now he’s here, in Taylor’s hotel room, a little tipsy on alcohol and a lot high on life. He had a good time. He introduced her to everyone he hadn’t already and got to go out with her in _public_ around Central Park yesterday and it’s all just finally official and it’s great. 

Taylor comes into the room a few seconds later and Harry grabs her, wrapping his arms around her waist easily and pulling her in close, swaying to imaginary music. He’s been thinking about this for _ages_. Not even doing anything, just being with her in person again, having her in his arms. God, they weren’t even at this stage when she touched down in New York yesterday. “It’s been a good few days. Few years. Madison Square Garden, Taylor!” 

She laughs again and it turns into giggling that she can’t stop, leaning more heavily into Harry. “And you were amazing!” she says and then she’s biting her lip and doing that thing where girls look through their lashes and Harry knows what to do with that, tips her face up with a finger under her chin and kisses her.

“I’ve been wanting to do that all day, all yesterday too,” he tells her, breaking the kiss only long enough to say that. Her mouth opens under his easily and he licks inside, moaning into it and feeling it down to his fingertips when her tongue touches his, taps it playfully. They’ve only done this a couple of times, never having any time together, let alone time by themselves, and it’s as good as he’s been imagining it would be. 

Just as soon as it’s started, though, it’s stopped and she’s pulling away, giggling again. She stumbles a few feet away and makes for the television remote on the table but Harry grabs her around the waist before she gets to it, pulling her back again, not wanting to let her go at least. She keeps laughing, twisting and wiggling and almost falling over, and Harry can’t take it anymore and starts laughing himself. She’s just adorable. When her jerking around doesn’t work, she suddenly goes limp, dropping into dead weight, and it takes Harry off guard, knocking them both to the ground. 

“Haha,” Taylor laughs, rolling over, starting to crawl away. “Sucker. That’s a beginner’s movie.” Harry huffs and chases after her, but she’s faster and stronger than she looks because suddenly Harry is on his back, and she’s hovering over him, thighs spread wide over his and resting her hands on his shoulder. “Got ya right where I want ya.” 

Harry has no complaints but he bucks up, tries to fight anyway to see what she does. What that is, is leaning down and kissing him, slow and deep and a little dirty. Harry raises a hand and threads his fingers through her hair, cupping the back of her head to hold her there, and twists his tongue around hers. 

She’s not the only one who can play this game and when he thinks she’s distracted enough, he flips them over, pressing her down into the rug with his weight, and holds her hands above her head. She blinks up at him and grins, wraps her legs around his waist and pulls him back in. 

He doesn’t know how long they kiss, only pays attention to how much tongue she seems to like and the sounds she makes when he tugs on her bottom lip with his teeth and how obvious it is he’s getting hard against her thigh. His lips are swollen and tender but it feels good, so he kisses her harder and swallows down every noise she makes. 

“Wait, wait, stop,” Taylor says breathlessly and pushes on his shoulder and he pulls back immediately, looking at her with concern. 

“You okay?” 

She nods but is crawling out from under him. She reaches for the remote this time and he lets her, hovering at her side. He’s so hard he’s a little lightheaded but if she wants to stop, he’ll stop, no questions asked. “Let’s get on the bed,” she says. “On top of the covers!” she adds, giggling again as she finds some movie on and tosses the remote. 

Harry laughs and sits down, angling toward her; however, he keeps a few centimeters of space between them. “Do you want to stop?” he asks. She’s different from most girls he’s liked. 

“No,” Taylor says without hesitation, “but I wasn’t lying. When I said I was a virgin.” Harry nods. He believed her. “And I want to stay that way until I get married.” 

“Okay,” Harry says, nodding. He takes one of her hands in his, rubs his thumb over the back of it and looks her in the eyes. “I respect you and your boundaries. We can do whatever you’re comfortable with.” 

Taylor’s expression turns pinched and she groans and then suddenly he’s got a lap full of girl and she’s kissing him, picking up where they left off on the floor. He’s surprised and fumbles, getting his legs uncrossed and arranging her over him so that she’s straddling one of his thighs and he can get an arm around her waist and a hand in her hair. She’s so light. He could move her any way he wants, he realizes, any way that she wants without breaking a sweat. 

His hands splay wide across her back and he wishes she were wearing what she had on yesterday instead of this dress so that he could get his hands on her bare skin, touch her back, hips, maybe she’d allow him to unhook her bra. He wants anything, everything she wants to give him. 

“Just not actual sex,” Taylor mumbles against his mouth and Harry itches to tell her that all sexual activities are actual sex, but that’ll be for another time, so he lets his hand rest on her thigh, the only skin he can get to. She hums, not letting up on kissing him and he goes with it, slides his hand higher until he’s cupping her outside her panties. If she has a problem, she’ll tell him to stop and he’ll stop. 

Harry gathers her in his other arm and rolls them, liking that angle better and dipping his fingertips past the edge until it’s skin on skin, and feels how wet she already is. He smiles into the kiss a little smugly and yanks on her underwear until he can move his fingers easier, find her clit and touch.

He would really like to get her dress down and put his mouth on her breasts, too, but that seems like a whole lot of fucking work, so he keeps kissing her instead, keeps rubbing his fingers across the little nub of her clit until she’s rocking against his hand and panting, tongue losing coordination, and then he slips a finger inside her, sliding in deep and getting a groan out of her. 

The skin at her neck is soft and smells faintly perfumy as he licks and kisses his way down, careful not to leave any marks, and the hands clutching his arms squeeze tighter when he slips in a second finger. It’s a tight fit but she just moans, high and breathy and her legs fall open wider, hips rocking up. He’s so hard just thinking about how it could be him between her legs, where his fingers are, how tight it’d be. He might pass out. 

Taylor fumbles with his jeans until they’re finally open and then she’s pulling him out, laughing and mumbling something about no underwear, and curls a hand around as much of him as she can. Harry groans and his hips jerk forward, fingers thrusting inside Taylor a little harder than he intended to but then she’s gasping and clenching around his fingers, his name coming out brokenly. He keeps moving his fingers, pushing against how much tighter she gets. 

When she goes limp against the bed, Harry removes his hand, curls it around hers and helps her jerk him off. He’s going faster than he normally would alone but he’s so hard, been hard for ages and just wants to come already and preferably not all over her pretty dress. 

The dress isn’t so lucky and neither are his shirt or their hands, so he takes the shirt off and wipes their hands on it. He rolls over into the space beside her, breathing heavily and looks at the ceiling. He just needs a second. 

“You alright?” Taylor asks him. 

“Yeah,” Harry whispers, voice failing there, coughs to get it back. 

It’s quiet for a few minutes, and Taylor’s breathing has evened out. They’ve never spent the night together before, so Harry doesn’t know if that means she’s sleeping or not, but he says anyway, “Tonight has been a good night. Madison Square Garden! Taylor Swift’s pants!” 

It takes a second, but then Taylor’s yanking the pillow out from under his head and hitting him in the face with it.


End file.
